MARRIAGE.

CHAPTER I.

“Nor only by the warmth
And soothing sunshine of delightful things,
Do minds grow up and flourish.”

AKENSIDE.

AFTER parting with the last of her beloved relatives
Mary tried to think only of the happiness that awaited
her in a reunion with her mother and sister; and she
gave herself up to the blissful reveries of a young
and ardent imagination. Mrs. Douglas had sought
to repress, rather than excite, her sanguine expectations;
but vainly is the experience of others employed in
moderating the enthusiasm of a glowing heart.
Experience cannot be imparted. We may render
the youthful mind prematurely cautious, or meanly
suspicious; but the experience of a pure and enlightened
mind is the result of observation, matured by time.

The journey, like most modern journeys, was performed
in comfort and safety; and, late one evening, Mary
found herself at the goal of her wishes—­at
the threshold of the house that contained her mother!

One idea filled her mind; but that idea called up
a thousand emotions.

“I am now to meet my mother!” thought
she; and, unconscious of everything else, she was
assisted from the carriage, and conducted into the
house. A door was thrown open; but shrinking from
the glare of light and sound of voices that assailed
her, he stood dazzled and dismayed, till she beheld
a figure approaching that she guessed to be her mother.
Her heart beat violently—­a film was upon
her eyes—­she made an effort to reach her
mother’s arms, and sank lifeless on her bosom!

Lady Juliana, for such it was, doubted not but that
her daughter was really dead; for though he talked
of fainting every hour of the day herself, still what
is emphatically called a dead-faint was a spectacle
no less strange than shocking to her. She was
therefore sufficiently alarmed and overcome to behave
in a very interesting manner; and some yearnings of
pity even possessed her heart as she beheld her daughter’s
lifeless form extended before her—­her beautiful,
though inanimate features, half hid by the profusion
of golden ringlets that fell around her. But
these kindly feelings were of short duration; for
no sooner was the nature of her daughter’s insensibility
as ascertained, than all her former hostility returned,
as she found everyone’s attention directed to
Mary, and she herself entirely overlooked in the general
interest she had excited; and her displeasure was
still further increased as Mary, at length slowly unclosing
her eyes, stretched out her hands, and faintly articulated,
“My mother!”